


Red

by cledritch



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad Decisions, Bad Parenting, Heavy Angst, Illnesses, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced First Time Smoking, Kun worries for Sicheng, M/M, Minor Johnwinten, Sicheng doesn't want help, Suicidal Thoughts, Taeyong Suffers, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Tragedy, What Was I Thinking?, lots of issues, taewin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 10:29:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9119695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cledritch/pseuds/cledritch
Summary: Sicheng thought of himself as a match: trying to make the fire burn bright at that strike before he dies out. But Taeyong saw him as the sun: dying but still brighter than anything he's ever seen.





	

Sicheng's life is filled with fire.

Red, flickering flames that licked against the air as it consumed everything in its path, heat uncomfortable on his skin. Smoke like a thick fog hanging over his stinging eyes that made it hard to see as the burning scent clogs his nose, comforting and addictive as he closed his eyes.

His fingers let go of what's left of the red envelope, carmine turning black as the heat took its color away and only a small triangle of red is left to lay with the ashes that littered around his feet.

"With love." he whispered, knees knocking as he tried to get some feeling back to his thighs where he was squatting and leaned his chin on them to survey the gray and black smudged on the concrete that covered older marks from before.

A gust of air went through him, ruffling his black hair into disarray and he looked up to meet dark eyes peering down from the bridge overhead.

Sicheng blinked and the person is gone. He tilted his head in confusion before shrugging and standing up, brushing off any traces of ash clinging to his pants and taking out a bottle of perfume he picked from a thrift store to hide the smell of smoke that never left him.

He made his way back to the stairs that would take him back to the street overhead, feeling nauseous that he stopped to dry heave on the sidewalk just as the wind picked up.

It was never a good smell, the mix of smoke and cheap cloying apple pungent on his entire being.

//

"Kun-gege, when will I die?" he said, leaning on the headboard as his good friend applied ointment on the blossoming bruise that the doctors have said wouldn't be fatal if he tended to it. The same bruises that covered his legs when he tried to do Chinese Dancing and missed the cue out of distraction. Kun was yelling the whole time he found Sicheng flopped like a starfish on the polished floor, hands saved from the damage but his legs were already hit without him being able to save himself.

"Shut the hell up, Sicheng. They told you not to do anything dangerous and you're trying to find more creative ways to hurt yourself." the elder hissed at him as he inspected the mottled bruises, some old and new that the reds and purples like a bad canvas of bad choices.

The younger smiled, innocent and out of place when his eyes have been sparkling with another emotion "Passion is as bright as the person who holds it. It's what I'm best at and the only thing left keeping me alive."

There's a hardened expression on Kun's face, the same one he held when he found the burns around Sicheng's fingers that were merely pink-tinted skin if  not for the twitch of discomfort the latter made. "Did you go under the bridge again?"

The younger's smile widened and Kun was about to slap him when the doctor came inside. There's a look of horror in his face when he realized what he was going to do and held his wrist as Sicheng greeted the doctor with a cheerful "I got careless again."

Kun gagged and left the room. Sicheng knew well enough he was going to vomit in the bathroom.

The doctor is one of those middle-aged professionals, beard trimmed to his jaw and tried to appear friendly to make Sicheng feel comfortable. The type who probably has an insurance in the bank for their future grandchildren, possibly lived through medical school with their parents' support and more likely to cheat on their wife when they realized they were getting older. He thought he had his life in control and Sicheng can see how easily they can fall apart. He's a different doctor than the one that checked him the week before, a lady who cried when he told her that it's a disconcerting feeling to see that he cut his hands on the jagged ends of the broken plate that he didn't remember being there. The wound was so deep Kun panicked that he put alcohol to disinfect it and Sicheng laughed at the throbbing pain that resonated into his skull. There were others but they left when their lack of experience made them intimidated of the words that came from such a serene face.

"This is the seventh time you've been here this week, child. How much strain have you been doing to yourself?"

"I'm checking in to get a weekly attendance," he replied offhandedly "Not enough strain apparently if you'll just give me some antibiotics."

The man's brows knitted and his mouth twisted to a frown before he looked over his file. "Dong Sicheng, eighteen as of this year, born in China and you've been diagnosed with hemophilia since you were six years old," he flipped another page "You came here to get better treatment under the request of your parents and they've been the top donors of this hospital that they always make sure you're well-treated here. Your psychiatric evaluation tells you're normal but I think you need to have a re-evaluation. You need to be screened for suicidal delusions."

Another one who thought aggression would work on him and , what a joke. Sicheng blinked, as if surprised "That's the fifth."

"Excuse me?"

"The fifth re-evaluation and my psychiatrist would tell you the same. There's nothing wrong with me," he shrugged as the man stared at him in discomfort "What does it matter how emotionally stable I am when my body is fucked up as it is?" 

"You drove away every doctor that would try to treat you. The nurses know you enough to keep their distance. You injure yourself for attention you didn't get, you petulant child-"

Sicheng raised a brow, smile still so calm as he brandished a lighter out of nowhere and flicked it on and off, flame making the man flinch "If only it was that easy as it is in your black and white fantasy."

"What the hell-"

Kun clicked his tongue at the sight he returned to, the doctor on his back with a horrified look on his face frozen in his surprise as Sicheng looked at him with wide curious eyes and holding a lighter near his face with a finger on the switch.

"Sicheng, stop scaring everyone with your empty threats." the elder heaved, still trying to adjust to the scratchy feeling in his throat.

"You're insane." the doctor said in an empty tone, Kun helping him up and noting how he was shaking before he picked up his clipboard. The man sent one last glare at Sicheng before he left, possibly to the superintendent to ask for a change of schedule.

Kun moved to Sicheng's side, the younger looking up with an unreadable look on his face as he tucked his lighter back to his pocket. He placed a hand on the boy's black hair and then wrapped an arm around his shoulder to give him something in semblance to a hug.

"I'm sorry." he whispered, the repetitiveness of those two words falling to deaf ears and his hold around Sicheng tightened in the realization that help was something that he didn't welcome.

"There's nothing to be sorry for."

//

Sicheng was always partial to this route, the trees tall enough to provide the shadows when the sun hit them at the right angle and made the flames he made burn brighter than usual. It was a routine for him at this point with the sunset painting an orange glow that streaked the sky like it was on fire itself, warmth but an illusion at the orb that sunk away to welcome the darkness to come. He found the idea idealistic in terms of how much he romanticized it in his head, the flames kissing his skin like they would and leaving imprints of its damage on his skin like the bruises that never left him. But instead of turning from red to purple before healing to a dusty brown, Sicheng's bruises were violet little marks that needed to be checked.

He skipped down the stairs that were next to the old bridge that students used to avoid the traffic of the main highway, scruff of his shoes grinding on the concrete as he adjusted his large brown coat around his skinny frame. His mother sent him a designer brand this time, claiming the fabrics he might find in stores unfit for his sensitive skin and the little metals accessories they place on it might snag on his body that would only injure him. She was fussy but she didn't care enough to come with him to this unfamiliar place where people spoke a different language as him. Odd people with their constricting rules and boundaries he never understood.

Sicheng pressed his fingers on the cool metal fence that usually restricted the area, small space between the vertical bars enough to squeeze himself into and he could smell the moss that clung onto the bridge's sides like a parasite. The tunnel has long being used as a waterway and only filled with rain water from heavy downpours that it's quite dry, dry enough that he can see the traces of the burning he made from yesterday.

Fire made him calm.

He took out a red envelope from his bag, pristine and straight that he swiped his fingers against the sealed mouth. Without any sound, he took his lighter out:  filled to the brim with lighter fluid he changed the night before and one of those zippo types where he kept the little button on high, just how he liked it. Sicheng crouched, careful his coat didn't snag on the dirt as he dangled the envelope between his thumb and index finger. His thumb caressed the shiny button of the lighter before he pressed down hard to let the teardrop-like shape of red, orange and that little blue flame in the middle ignite, directly placing it that the tip of the envelope touched the flame.

The paper curled into itself, red turning black as it detached off onto the ground. He let go of the button, face warm as the envelope burned little by little and he only let go when the flames had given him a small sting before he watched it being greedily devoured by the flickering flames, clumps of grey and black from what used to be a brilliant red.

"That's another one for today."

"You have ash on your wrist."

Sicheng jolted his head at the voice with wide eyes and almost fell to his ass, something that made the stranger leaning their arms on the fence chuckle a little. There's a disconcerting atmosphere around the man with his off-white hair that was showing its black roots, kohl-lined eyes that made his gaze darker than what those strong eyebrows suggested and the structure of his face Sicheng has only seen in the marble statues his father brought from the art museum back home. He looked out of place in the washed-out surroundings like he could vanish if Sicheng blinked, high cheekbones looking like wax that he wondered would melt under his lighter's fire.

Sicheng turned his hand, the smudges of brown and grey stark contrast of the paleness of his skinny wrist and he took out his handkerchief to wipe it off. "That's creepy."

The man shrugged, leaning back to properly look at Sicheng from head to toe "I can say the same thing for you, little bridge dweller."

"Didn't anyone tell you that you need to be careful with strangers in questionable places?"

"I was seven by then and lollipops were lures in dark alleys where old men kidnapped little boys and girls," the man is smiling like Sicheng is an old friend, soft and kind as if he didn't see the blackened dirt around him. He finally moved his arms away from the rail and stopped short on the small space between the fence, placing his palms on the two opposite metal poles "But I don't think I'm the child here."

Sicheng laughed a little, light tinkling sound that made the stranger's smile falter and return with a pink dusting his cheeks unnoticeable from where the younger stood. "Is that how you kidnap every defenseless boy you find?"

"You don't carry a blue-white zippo for nothing."

"That's strangely specific for you to know." there's a discomfort that settles in Sicheng's stomach at that, his eyebrows rose as he stuffed his hands into his coat pockets to touch the said item.

The man tipped his head as if to think about it before he gave a loop-sided smile and turned his heels, leaving as abrupt as he came.

Sicheng left a few minutes after, looking around to try to find the white hair walking down the street.

There was not a soul in sight.

//

Alcohol is strange, Sicheng realized.

It's like gasoline in his mouth that burns his throat as it trickled down and settling to a dull warmth in his stomach. Crisp but acidic that left the aftertaste of staleness that he tried to chase away with water. It didn't help cool down the warmth that has washed over his skin like a blanket or stopped the strobe lights' intensity from nailing into his eyes that made everything hard to see.

How he got inside without the bouncer smelling his lie a mile away wasn't odd. It's a wonder what a few straight bills looking they just left the bank can do to people, smelling of inked print as they run their greasy fingers on the pristine papers.

Sicheng enjoyed a lot of things in bars like these. The atmosphere is chaotic enough that the liveliness fuels the people to dance on tabletops and drink round after round without any decision to stop. There's an array of characters that he found here, men and women alike that he barely remembered the faces of but the way they carried themselves is the same as everyone that came before. Jovial, some lost in what to do under the heavy bass of the music while the regulars steer clear of anything that they didn't partake in their routine unless it was dancing or drinking, the main reason they came here in the first place.

Sicheng is neither a newbie nor a regular. He knew enough, however, that he can only take three shots before the room starts spinning and his thoughts are clear enough that he wouldn't be bumping into tables to give himself unnecessary bruises but the alcohol still gave him a carelessness that he channeled somewhere else.

There's a hand on his hip, fingers ghosting at his stomach through his shirt and he looked up, greeted by a handsome face. The straight slope of his nose and pouty lips that reminded Sicheng of those foreigners that visited the hospital and it was clear when he spoke, a light smoothness in his words that confirmed it.

"You seem lost in thought," he said, hand running through his brown hair that made strands fall over his eyes as he stared at something over Sicheng's shoulder "Wouldn't it be better if you kept your wallet in your front pocket?" he emphasizes it by pulling the boy by his belt hoops and into his space.

Sicheng blinked and turned his gaze at the retreating form of some shabby man that was cursing about a lost chance, the stranger moving back so Sicheng can see how taller he was than him. "Was that to stop the pickpocket or to flirt? I might be mixing up signals."

He laughed, face scrunching up in amusement before he gestured with his head a smaller man who is busy talking to a group in another language "My boyfriend noticed it first and I'm just here to do what I forbid him to."

Sicheng hummed as he surveyed the one the other pointed, slim little thing with quite fairy-like features that consisted of bright eyes and smiling lips red under the light of the club. Their eyes met and he winked at Sicheng before resuming his conversation. "He's a pretty thing. I can see why you don't let him save people."

"He told me he didn't want to see a pretty face panic when they lost their only means of getting home."

It could be the alcohol really or the hero complex being presented to him that makes him look over at the stranger's boyfriend who in turn has been making side glances at them, eyes scanning both of them but lingering at Sicheng's waist before it traveled down to his legs.

"Do you do this often?" he wondered out loud, tilting his head at the man near him who rose a brow. "Do you often try to save people as a means to make them easy target to seduce? Is this one of your many spices to keep your relationship exciting?"

The man laughed abruptly, airy hacking noises that made him bend down to slap his knees in his laughter. He continued to sound like Sicheng told him the funniest joke in the world, making the people who were with his boyfriend look over them with suspicious looks. "You're hilarious, kid. Where on earth have you been lurking to think weird shit like that?" he gasped, regaining his bearings as he wiped the tear that fell out of his eyes in his mirth.

"It's a special case of humor. Taken from the bowels of the hellhole I'm living in at this moment and adapted for special kind of people."

There's a warm breath on his cheek, a hand that cradled his jaw to tilt his gaze straight into the same male that was looking over them. It's odd to be stared at while knowing these two were in a relationship but Sicheng's heart is beating fast out of intoxicated excitement. "I'll assume I'm one of them. But then again, Ten and I always find the special type of people. I wonder if you'd like to play for a little while, nothing harmful."

"His name is Ten? He's living up to his name if his looks give him any justice." Sicheng blinked, letting his eyelashes flutter as he saw 'Ten' parted his lips at the action.

"We're going to have a good time."

It's the perfect opportunity to do something he's written down on things he needed to accomplish in this life time, he thought as he moved his head to brush his lips against this stranger while keeping his eyes on Ten.

The stranger's lips are soft against his, slotting enough as a palm fanned over Sicheng's lower back like a warm weight that should have been meant to help him relax. It was just a press of their lips against each other, sucking on the lower lip mostly out of curiosity and then there's a tongue tracing at the seam of his lips. Sicheng broke the kiss off, chuckling as he pressed his palm onto the other's mouth.

"Hold on. I don't even know your name and you're trying to put your tongue in my mouth."

"You know mine so you wouldn't mind if I did?" a sweet voice said from behind Sicheng before he's being spun over and there's another pair of lips on his.

It was a haze after that.

//

He failed to realize he didn't have a red envelope with him that day.

Sicheng made it halfway down the steps, looking down at the dirtied laces of his boots when he opened up his bag and found that he didn't bring it. He furrowed his brows, head still having remnants of pain from the hangover he sported despite the painkillers he tried drinking to remedy it. There's a blurry recollection from last night that resembled snapshots of activities he doesn't usually do, kissing someone else's boyfriend as they watched and being passed onto the latter to have their tongue shoved into his mouth. It was just lazy drags of lips and wandering hands and when there was light biting getting involved, Sicheng bid them good bye with a flick of his wrist and rushing out the club with the rush of adrenaline.

He felt alive then, laughing as he came home to the penthouse he was given and collapsed on the doorstep where Kun had discovered him at eight in the morning.

Sicheng went to the nearby clinic to check if he was okay, the nurse stating that there was signs of a mild internal bleeding on the marks that decorated his neck and Kun's face morphed to horror.

"Were you going to be raped? Is that what happened?" he shouted loud enough it echoed through the room when Sicheng woke up with a headache that made it feel like bowling balls were bouncing inside his brain.

He didn't hear it properly the first time so when Kun repeated it, he scowled "The lights are too bright. Turn it off."

"Sicheng, what the hell were you doing last night?"

There's something in his chest that made him hunch over, hand waving Kun to pass the trash bin and when he held the black container he vomited. He could never get used to the after effects but now that he's done what he needed to do, he wouldn't be going back there. It was not easy to mask the smell of alcohol on him like it used to and with his constant burning, it was worse.

When he finished expelling his guts out, Kun rubbed his hand harshly down his face. "How did you get in a club and how did you make the bartender get you drunk? If you were taken advantage of, they wouldn't be able to know they'd kill you after they're done with you!"

Sicheng looked over him with tired eyes, a line of saliva down his chin that he licked away before he said "The same way I always do," he closed his eyes as he tried to hold back the nausea that came "Except I wasn't going to be raped. It's the last thing I want to happen."

Kun's voice is softer now, filled with worry and on the brink of cracking like it usually did when Sicheng is bordering on piled up frustrations he would never tell anyone "Why were you in that club? What were you trying to accomplish?"

"Something special." was all that Sicheng answered before he vomited again.

The disappointment in Kun's gaze is like a band aid to him now, easily ripped off that he can't tell if it's from the apathy he's trying to adapt or that he's repeated it to Sicheng like a broken record that it's become white noise.

Because he came straight here after he arranged his schedule so that Kun would know where he was going to avoid anything like that from happening again, he didn't bring what was important for today and it made him anxious. There would still be time if he came back and fetched some from the stationery store nearby, hopefully before dusk came to bleed purple to the orange sky of the sunset.

Sicheng is about to turn but his eyes catch the streak of color under the bridge where he usually stayed and walked over in surprise to find a red envelope among the scattered red petals. He picked it up to inspect it, noting that it was exactly like the ones he had brand new with the seal still dry. He picked up one of the petals, feeling the softness of it and the torn edges it had before he smiled.

He must have forgotten one of them then.

"One step closer."

A click. The flame flickered and the envelope burned like it usually did.

//

When Sicheng wasn't under the bridge or in the hospital to treat the simplest of wounds, he would be reading.

The college that he passed by on his route had a library that allowed outsiders to come inside and read their books as long they are in the premises. He found the quaint little space he discovered during the third visit to this medium-sized building, hidden between the broken shelf that leaned on the one standing straight where old obscure books were placed. It's a small crawlspace, his shoulders touching the panels as his knees barely managed to fold against his torso that it was comfortable and there would be a book balanced between his chest and knees as he let time trickle down.

He has been locked in twice because of that and the student that worked as the assistant librarian knew of him. He was possibly the only reason that Sicheng got fed even if it wasn't allowed in open hours.

That's how the student, Yuta, found him. Just like the first time, Sicheng was reading a book there looking like a mouse hiding from the light and just a perfect fit for the otherwise claustrophobic space. He moved the books enough that there is a direct light on the pages so he could see the words, like some horror movie scene from the old age.

"You broke your back yet?" Yuta greeted, smile wide as Sicheng looked at him in surprise. He chuckled at the sight of the older Japanese man who wore an odd black Hawaiian-themed shirt despite the air-conditioning blasting cold air to chill anyone without a sweater. "It's almost six. You usually leave at four but that book got your attention."

"I'm free," he replied as he thought of how uneventful the day was and nothing in his list had been ticked off "Would you like me to go out now?"

Yuta gestured him with a flick of his palm like he was calling for a dog in a teasing manner "Come out, boy. I got some food."

Sicheng laughed and did so, tucking the book to chest as he emerged from his hole in a way that Yuta pinched his cheek the moment he stood on his feet with a pleased expression. He swatted the elder's hand and pouted "What did I do now?"

"Little rabbit Sicheng~!" Both of them laughed and walked over to the are where Yuta took his breaks in, two metal boxes that looked like those Sicheng saw in the videos of a food Japanese animation that Yuta showed him sometimes and he sent an uneasy look at him.

"Tell me you didn't..." he struggled how to put it into words "Try to cook from an anime."

Sicheng probably said that wrong because Yuta flicked his thumb and forefinger at his mouth that it hurt. "Don't say bad words, you overgrown child!" he warned, pausing before he added "And don't yell in the library."

Yuta was a little weird with the sarcastic tone he gave and the self-satisfied smile he held that made Sicheng recall that he too is stuck in a different culture away from his family who acted in  a way natives didn't understand completely. It was interesting.

"So what poison are you feeding me this time?"

"If you disrespect my efforts one more time, I'll throw this at your face. Just you and your puppy eyes wait because I won't hold back no matter what begging you do." the elder grumbled as he removed the individual little containers from their stack, opening them to reveal a delicious array of fried tempura, sausages and pork cutlet in smelling good that it made Sicheng's mouth water.

The other container had a clear soup and the last one was filled with rice.

He hummed as he sat down. "Well, looks like you managed to make it look good this time."

Yuta pulled out chopsticks from the pouch he kept inside the office, scoffing "Do tell me that after you forget that raw pasta noodles you tried to fry."

Sicheng picked up a pork strip and bit into it, chewing thoughtfully as he relished the burst of flavor that came into his mouth. He nodded "Let that mistake past away."

"You wasted a good opportunity, Sicheng. You wasted a good pun, my boy." Yuta joked and sipped on the warm soup, sighing at how it fended the cold away.They ate in silence, letting the food keep them occupied and filling their stomachs with it before they cleaned up. Mostly Yuta who packed it up in a bag and ruffling Sicheng's hair.

"What were you reading this time?"

"The Song of Achilles." the younger replied, biting into the apple that he stole from Yuta's bag "Have you read it before?"

Yuta's face contorted into an uncomfortable expression, eyes narrowed and mouth scowling "I have and there's a scene that's just-" he made slashing motions over his neck to make his point despite Sicheng not understanding.

"I'm not that far yet. Just the part Partoclus follows Achilles when he's sent to train? It's an interesting perspective but a little sentimental, I guess." he shrugged, remembering how the story so far went with a blossoming friendship that seemed quite like a fantasy he could find in his subconscious.

"Well, if you finish it, you'll know how it's a very sad story. I mean, it's based on Homer's Odysseus and it's technically a romance between two men where one is plain and the other has his whole destiny planned out. A tragedy waiting to happen."

"You know how much I love sad stories."

Yuta's smile didn't reach his eyes, out of place in his usual animated expressions "Oh, Sicheng."

The younger left the library at seven, Yuta locking up behind him and waving goodbye with a blank expression as he made his way down the street in the coldness of the evening. There's nothing else to see at this time that he can only stare at the sky with every step he took and the cars that pass by him are even quiet that the only way for him to know they are there is the smell of car exhaust smoke.

It felt like when he was burning the letters and he stopped in front of the bridge to think of what he should do next.

//

"Sicheng?" Kun's voice drifted into the room like a tentative inquiry as he heard footsteps coming his direction.

There's a sickly sweet scent every time he inhaled, aftertaste of nicotine that doesn't taste like anything but bitter and difficult to swallow. He's coughed up every hit of the cigarette, menthol crushed into the stub making it spicy enough it felt like drowning mint mouthwash. This was a bad idea in general, smoking in his house where Kun could discover him easier but if he pretended he wasn't home, the elder would go away.

"Sicheng, I know you're there." he yelled while his steps seemed to drift to the other rooms and lingered at the door to the bathroom. The air surrounding him is tainted with grey as he blew out attempts of rings like how he's seen it in movies but only made straight clouds that made his eyes water at the sting he felt when they hit his face.

The tub is filled with water, the bath bomb he dumped before turned it purple with little flower petals floating on the surface that stuck to his exposed skin when he moved around. His throat felt like something died inside as they tried to scratch their way out, swallowing his saliva giving him nausea because of the earthy taste similar to medicinal roots he was forced to drink so long ago. But this was worse, artificial in the way little flecks he didn't burn stuck to the roof of his mouth that sent shivers down his spine.

There's water on the floor and his cigarette is almost finished so Kun should really just go without a fuss. It's just one stick and it's only so he could burn the envelope to keep a semblance of control.

A sound made him stop from taking a drag, lips parting as he waited  for the inevitable yelling and the disappointed stares that always came after he followed his list. A second flew by, then another and another before Sicheng has realized he's hunching into the water that it spilled to the edges.

He can barely hear it, the dismissive voice that he needed to strain his hearing to understand it.

"Please just finish it."

The cigarette stub is much heavier in his fingers when he did so, lungs polluted and every breath he took burned as he came out of the bathroom dripping wet to find that Kun had left him with a note that told him the same thing over and over again. 'Finish it.'

   

Sicheng hacked into his hand, tears trailing down his eyes as he kept sniffling at the snot running down his nose. The cigarette wasn't kind like he expected to his weak lungs, mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton balls and swiping his tongue to check the sores he didn't know he had gave him a flashback of the taste when he is hit with bitterness and smoke.

He leaned onto the railing, careful that he didn't slip as he dry-heaved to stop the bile rising to his throat and looked at the darkness of the place he usually visited, street lights above it only giving it harsh shadows that in his head looked like they were claws reaching out to drag him.

He couldn't go to the library today, lethargic as he woke up with his sheets wet from where he just slept without changing his clothes after what Kun left him and the hospital called him to say that the doctor they were supposed to make him meet was busy that they needed to reschedule. There was only one more thing he thought about, the box he kept the red envelopes out from its place under his bed and one of them placed on the top of his dresser to remind him what he should do.

Against his better judgement, here he was. He forgot his coat and even forgot to lace his shoes as he nearly collapsed onto his knees.

"Is the magic fading away?"

Sicheng gasped, hand clutching his chest through his shirt in surprise. He turned around and gulped, the familiar sharp jawline and cupid's bow lips pulled into a small smirk came to view. His hair is black now, making him younger than before and his half-lidded eyes that didn't mask his fatigue. Yet he still looked out of this world and Sicheng rubbed his eyes, hoping that it's just nicotine clouding his senses. "This is just my headache killing me."

"No, it isn't." the man replied with a shake of his head, crossing the distance between them to help Sicheng up even when the younger squirmed in his hold. He paused, sniffing the younger's hair before he moved a respectable distance with a shake of his head "No wonder you look like you'll vomit. First time smoker?"

Sicheng didn't know if he should burn his envelope with this stranger in the vicinity. He will be asked questions he didn't want to answer at such a short notice. "Haven't I told you about-"

"Strangers in questionable places should be something I should be warned of even when I was told that when I was seven and listen, you're the child here. The rebelling child..." the man swayed his head in a mocking way "Or are you really just a simple bridge dweller that makes everyone question their reality?"

"Are you insane?"

"I am not the one setting envelopes on fire under bridges at sunset," Sicheng can't look away from the sudden half-lidded stare that's directed to him "Burning tiny things is still arson in the making and children shouldn't play with fire."

Sicheng's laugh was sharp when the man said that, echoing as he made the man take a step closer to check if he was alright but he stopped him with a hand "Listen, if you even wanted to lecture me then please..." he sighed, chest constricting and a dull burn in his throat "Keep it. We don't know each other."

"Would it matter?"

"Pretty much. You know what color my lighter is and stupid as it is, you seem interesting enough to catch that detail."

"My name is Lee Taeyong but really, it was the ash on your wrist three days ago at four-fifty six in the afternoon."

Sicheng looked up at him, blinking owlishly "That's specific."

Another smile, serene now as he took out some water from his bag to give to Sicheng "I have an eye for detail. What do I call you, bridge dweller?"

"Leave me alone."

Taeyong didn't falter and just walked back to the opening path where he leaned his back on the rail, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Burn it. It's what you always come here for."

"Stalker tendencies. Right, I'll always keep that in mind." Sicheng muttered, still uncomfortable that someone was staring at him but still burned the envelope in silence with the smoke filling his nose enough that it almost made him forget the nausea.

There's something nagging the back of Sicheng's head as he held up a strand of his hair and said "How did you smell the cigarette on me?" He washed his hair twice and lathered himself three times with a lemon-scented body gel he found under his sink, the scent too much that Sicheng's face soured when he took a whiff of himself before he left the house.

"When you smell like you can almost become lemonade without any sugar, it should be obvious."

"I guess it would be that, huh?" Sicheng replied, more to himself than Taeyong and walked to where he was blocking the way.

"You usually smell like smoke anyways."

Sicheng moved through as the other followed him up the steps an arms-length from him. He looked over his shoulder at the black-haired weirdo who's saying the creepiest of things. "You got that from my immature arson? Congratulations." he said dryly.

The edge of Taeyong's mouth quirked, cheeky little half-smile as they stood on the top of the stairs where the road was. He turned to Sicheng and his gaze rested on his neck with a gleam in his eyes. "You should take it slow with the vices. I won't try too hard to judge you but kid, life's too short for you to be careless with your body."

Empty words, Sicheng mused as he hid his laugh into his fist. But then he laughed out loud, mouth wide as he felt like it was the best thing he's been told and clutched his stomach because he couldn't stop. His laughter continued and he gasped, smacking his lips when he felt like his mouth was stretched too much and looked at Taeyong once more.

"That's good advice." he smiled before he spun his heels and walked away.

//

Kun hugged him a lot these days. It's something that could be a semblance of comfort or that he just wanted to make sure Sicheng wasn't off doing god knows worse. It's mostly a one-arm hug at times, sitting down at the edge of the bed with a pained look on his face as Sicheng rubbed his hands along the bruises old and new scattered around his body. When it was a rather bad day, Kun would engulf him in a tight embrace that had his face tucked into the elder's neck while he sang Chinese lullabies into his hair. Kun was the closest to family that Sicheng had at this point and he wouldn't lie that yes, it did make him feel bad for putting him in this position of seeing him in his decline. But really, there's no one else he would rather have by his side watching him destroy his life little by little.

He's cruel but he trusts Kun too much to make him leave and suffer in the silence of his worries while he overthinks himself to sleep at what Sicheng could be doing.

He would think about the way he'll find Sicheng bleeding out in an alleyway with a large gash on his side and his clothes torn at the seams. He'd be haunted with the idea that the younger would be able to hijack a police car out of fun and orchestrate a wild goose chase. He would panic when he looked at the news, dreading to see a mugshot of the boy he grew up with sporting a bruise that no one but him knowing it would be lethal.

There are worse things Kun can think of that Sicheng might do.

As much as Kun held trust in him, it was a different story when it came to respecting his decisions.

It was either he becomes buried in the scenarios he played of Sicheng doing the extremes he promised himself he would do or lessen the intent enough that it all boiled down to little mistakes that are still miles away from the life Sicheng used to live.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked him every day, eyes pleading him to stop the game before it became too far for him to redeem what he lost. Sometimes Kun would scream, sometimes he'd cry and other times he'd be sound so broken it felt like all he can do is whisper.

Sicheng's answer is the same every time either way.

"Because I should before everything's gone."

Kun wished it didn't make sense to him at all, the memories of the bright boy who danced with his heart and laughed like the world was his playground where everything was at his whim. He missed the quiet days they'd read to each other about pirates, emperors that coveted dragons and witches who brought life lessons to wary travelers. He wanted the Dong Sicheng that told him he was the brother he never had and the sibling that took the place of a sister he lost to family ties and expanding companies, smile full of teeth with his eyes twinkling with childish mirth.

Kun wished there was a way to keep the fire burning without ash in its wake. Sicheng is just counting down the strikes before everything ends.

//

"Would you like to walk with me? You don't look like you have anything to burn today."

Sicheng looked at Taeyong, bundled up in shades of blue that made his black hair seem darker in the light. There are round specs over his eyes, slope of nose more noticeable with the black wires of them and he looked older, much older than Sicheng has seen him. "You look like a sugar daddy in the making." he blurted out, smirk playing on his face as Taeyong chuckled.

"You're the seventh to say that," he rolled his shoulders "I mean, it's not a lot better than grandfather or the mom of the group but I'll take what I can get from you."

"You sound like your friends make fun of you all the time."

"They do. It's college and everyone is stressed enough that it's something of an insult instead of a hello that becomes the customary greeting."

Sicheng hummed, impressed. A college guy then but with a mature atmosphere to him and he adjusted his bag over his shoulder. "I don't want to sound like a pompous ass but are you paying?"

Taeyong smiled. "I'm inviting you so keep your money."

It sounded weird for anyone to treat Sicheng when it's usually him throwing bills around like spare change during the times he wanted to be excessive but it's something new, something that he never considered before and he said "I have to burn a letter first."

Taeyong's eyebrows furrowed before shrugging. "Go ahead but I don't know what you're doing it for."

He waved him off, telling him to wait for him as he walked down the steps to call out "Reasons!"

Taeyong looked down, shaking his head in exasperation as Sicheng did what he usually did. At this angle, the latter could see something familiar with the way Taeyong was looking at him. Dark eyes that seemed like the night was in them, hiding something in plain sight.

In his hurry to go back, there was still flames eating the edges of the envelope that he left with the other remnants of his activities.

 

"What's your name? As much as I like calling you a bridge dweller, I might need to know." Taeyong asked, spoon swirling the melting cookie dough ice cream flavor in its cup as he stared at Sicheng eat his second serving cup. The vanilla that the elder (by two years, as he has learned for the past hour) bought him was good but not satisfying enough for his resurrected sweet tooth that he ordered a  Neapolitan flavor.

He hummed around his spoon, strawberry and chocolate infusing in his taste buds. "For what? Ransom?"

"If the hospital ever asks for details when you hit the lowest point of your train wreck and I'm the only one to be there with you."

"Why would you even be there?" Sicheng teased, taking another big heap of ice cream and shoving it into his mouth. The ice cream shop was quaint, obscure in its location that there wasn't much people loitering inside but the light violet of the walls and wafting scent of waffles and cherries that came from the back made it seem more welcoming than it looked. Taeyong was a regular here as he has come to find out, the old woman smiling at him widely when he entered and asking if Sicheng was the boyfriend he was hiding from her. It made the latter raise an inquiring eyebrow but Taeyong merely countered it with saying that Sicheng was a special case of friendship.

"That's a good question. Almost as good as the reason behind why you let a stranger treat you ice cream but I'm not prying about it, aren't I?"

Sicheng giggled, eyes dropping into his cup where the pinks and browns of his ice cream are starting to mix into a muddy mix. "You seem to have a lot of money to throw then at someone you barely know. Tell me, are you asking to be taken advantage of?" he said, blinking innocently as Taeyong set his empty cup aside with a thoughtful look.

His smile was half-hearted when he directed it to Sicheng, eyes curved to crescents as if to mock him and he drawled out a "Do you feel like you're taking advantage of me?" When Sicheng shook his head, Taeyong snapped his fingers that made the former tilt his head. "Then, no. I don't feel that way."

"If I said yes?"

"Then you're the one taking advantage of me for taking the offer of free ice cream even though you felt that way," Taeyong hummed and he intertwined his hands before he rested his chin on them "But that's what getting to know each other is all about, right? It wouldn't be taking advantage of anyone when I have a bond with you."

Sicheng grimaced. "That sounds cheesy and creepy at the same time."

Taeyong merely shrugged, smile now lighter as he looked at Sicheng drink the melted remnants of his ice cream "But if we were close friends, it wouldn't sound that bad."

"Touche." There's a beat of silence before Sicheng made up his mind.

"It's Dong Sicheng."

"Ah, you really are Chinese as I thought."

"It's almost like you've been imagining how we'd meet all this time when you talk like that."

Taeyong chuckled a little at Sicheng's accusing glare and waved his hands to show that wasn't the case. "Wow, you assume too much..." there's an odd fondness in his eyes, almost like pity but not quite and it's a little too much to look into them "...but it's more of me wanting to get to know the little bridge dweller with their burning ritual every sunset."

Sicheng doesn't reply but he does smile into his cup.

They leave when the sky had turned darker, street lights bright Sicheng patted his throat to get the tingle of the coldness away enough that it didn't get uncomfortable.

Taeyong smiled at him "Sore throat?"

He shook his head, laughing "It was worth the ice cream."

"You're like a child. How old are you again?" Taeyong mused as he moved Sicheng so he wouldn't be walking beside the street.

Sicheng pouted. "Old enough to be legal." he said and kicked the wayward pebbles on the ground.

There's a passing thought that he shouldn't be this comfortable with a stranger, let alone someone who knew details that even Sicheng hasn't noticed. He should be thinking why this college guy with his guarded eyes and easy smiles would be talking to him and how he should be running away instead of being curious enough to get closer.

"Then that would make you younger than me." Taeyong isn't fazed with the thoughtful look on Sicheng's face, just smiling like he's known him for so long.

It's never a good sign. Sicheng didn't want to feel like he might get attached to someone that he might never see again.

"Well, hyung, this child needs to go home to his parents and sleep before curfew or I'll get grounded." he joked, laughing at the memories of the times he was so afraid of breaking the rules set by his mother. The etiquette and proper manners instilled on him from a young age that didn't matter to him the moment they sent him to get treatment away from their care.

Taeyong didn't look too offended that they were parting ways. He gave another one of his smiles when they arrived at the bridge, gesturing with his chin the other way that Sicheng was heading. "See you then."

The younger smirked at that. "What makes you think we'll meet again?"

"Third times the charm?" was all the other said, teasing enough that it made Sicheng laugh before he walked away.

It was only when his figure disappeared into the distance that Sicheng turned and walked towards his home.

//

There were times that Sicheng didn't go to the bridge for long periods of time.

It's either Kun managed to drag him to events where he couldn't get away from, seminars and hospital visits that his parents arranged for him to keep him away from any free time he had to prance around on his own. Kun may be easily persuaded when Sicheng worked hard enough to convince him but his parents were a different story that complicated everything.

They knew that Sicheng wasn't trying to heal himself. They knew he was doing things they wouldn't approve of if they knew the whole context of the activities he was undergoing. However, Kun was always trying to lessen the blow and lie through his teeth that the psychiatrist said this and that about how Sicheng was going through stages of grief. His mother would tell him that his sister was doing well with her husband's company and she managed to close a huge deal that gave them an advantage in the stock market.

Sicheng would only stare in longing at the red envelopes on his desk after he endured a day about stem cell therapy, the dangers of him developing severe symptoms and how he should take care more of himself. He held the thick stationary between his palms, the last thing his sister gave him before she was sent to live with her husband as she said to him "Write your own life, Sicheng. It's the least you can do."

It was then that he realized how caged they were even after everything showered onto them.

"Where are you going?" Kun asked after the grueling week of being forced to seminar after seminar, eyes suspicious when Sicheng wrapped a scarf around his neck and carrying his bag over his shoulder. He was reading Dante's Inferno, hard-bound and translated in Chinese that Sicheng kept around to pass the time.

He wanted to ask how Kun got his hand on that but instead said "To the library."

Kun seemed satisfied albeit only for a few seconds before his eyebrows furrowed. "You'll still find ways to go under that bridge, aren't you."

It wasn't a question between them anymore and Sicheng's lack of answer only made it clearer to both of them.

The elder made a choked sigh, closing his eyes and keeping the book close to his face. "Come back safe."

To everyone else, Kun was being unreasonable. He should be stopping Sicheng from going headfirst into bad situations, should be scolding him like the older brother he fashioned himself to be and make sure that even if Sicheng would fight back, keep a firm hold of him against it. What's expected of him is to be the authority figure that Sicheng's parents implemented on him but right now, Kun feels more of the friend that Sicheng needed and being held back would only make the latter worse.

So Kun stays silent and Sicheng leaves the penthouse with a soft "I'll be back." 

 

Yuta saw him first when he enters the library, abandoning the tall male he was talking to in favor of hugging Sicheng with one arm.

Sicheng rolled his eyes at that. "You make it seem like I got lost for years." he said in a sarcastic tone, pushing Yuta off to see the relieved smile on the Japanese boy's face and the elder put his hand back on Sicheng's shoulder.

"You never reach a week before you come back to read your book. It was giving me a heart attack that you didn't show up."

It was dramatic to hear and the tall male near Yuta rolled his eyes at it, an action that didn't go unnoticed.

Yuta pouted at the guy, slinging his free arm over him. "Hansol-hyung, it's not funny."

Hansol shook his head and said "It is."

"It is, hyung. It is." Sicheng repeated and pushed himself away from Yuta to dig through the little box the latter kept just for him. The blue and gold cover of the Song of Achilles greeted him with a string of red yarn peeking out between the pages. He took it out and found that there was a bookmark right at the page he left, smiling at Yuta in gratitude.

Hansol reached over to ruffle Yuta's hair, looking down at him with a soft look. "You have a job to do and you're picking favorites now? Classy." he joked.

The silence that came was unlike Yuta and Sicheng found the elder blushing a little before he punched Hansol weakly at the shoulder. "Get to class, hyung."

Sicheng noticed that Yuta seemed to be opening his arms to hug Hansol but the moment he moved forward, the other had turned with a wave as he walked away while Yuta stood frozen with his arms awkwardly raised.

"Ouch." Sicheng muttered but Yuta then hugged him instead, slapping his back hard enough that the younger coughed as he whispered "Not a word, Sicheng. Not a word."

They leave it at that, Yuta's face still red from the miscalculated move and Sicheng wondering what the two's relationship was as he settled himself into this crawl space.

He didn't manage to question Yuta about the little blankets that now lined it making it more comfortable now.

Sicheng gets lost in the way Patroclus tries to find Achilles, the jealousy he harbored when he found that Achilles was married to a woman when his mother Thetis found out about them and how there are still doubts in his mind even when Achilles confesses it will always be him that stayed in his heart.

It's something he doesn't understand, especially when he can tell the looming danger that will come in the next chapters. Almost like his life and it's what makes him keep reading until he's invested in the impending attack on the king.

"Knock, knock." Yuta said from outside, sneakers touching the edge of Sicheng's own pair and it was time to place the bookmark back to the book. He crawled out with Yuta's arm as leverage, noting that Hansol was waiting behind him who raised a brow at them.

He muttered a "That's an interesting place."

"Thanks, hyung. It's my safe haven from everybody's presence." Sicheng replied with a smile while Yuta rolled his eyes at him.

The elder patted down Sicheng's hair to tame it and the younger swatted away his hand. "Listen, Sicheng. I can't give you the pleasure of my cooking today." he ended it with a gasp, hand on his heart as if he really was sorry that Sicheng missed the opportunity that Hansol and the latter shared a glance as if to ask what was wrong with Yuta.

"You mean you won't feed me rice and whatever you dug up from the convenience store?" Sicheng said in a deadpan tone that had both Hansol and Yuta chuckling.

Yuta apparently had to make a project with Hansol last minute and he didn't know if Sicheng was coming by so he just gave him money, going as far as walking him to the entrance with an arm around him.

The elder pinched his cheek before mock-kissing the air near his face that made Sicheng's eyebrows furrow in amusement. "Take care, kid. It's late."

"What are you trying to pull here? Your boyfriend might get jealous." he gestured at Hansol who was looking away to read the charts, visibly uncomfortable.

Yuta smirked and leaned to his ear to whisper "Let me tell you a secret," he paused "That's not my boyfriend. Yet."

Sicheng rolled his eyes, playfully pushing him away as he left the door. If he lingered for a moment, he could have seen Yuta wink at Hansol who blushed at being caught stealing glances.

 

Sicheng was back to the club. The bouncer was different but just a few bills and he was in like the first time, dressed differently from the flashy clothes and tight leather that adorned the club-goers one way or another. Amidst the crowd of colorful ensemble, he blended to the background in his large coat that swallowed his frame like a blanket and instead of throwing his body to the beat, he approached the bar with a calm smile that made the bartender return it with a curt nod.

He sat down on the stool, looking over the dance floor in interest. The agenda to drink has been crossed off and he didn't want to be here longer than he needed to unless something happened. He could go and dance but his Chinese dance wasn't appropriate for this enclosed space that he will hit people in the way. They might want to start fight that will give him bruises that Kun will ask about and he's decided to give him slack for now, chuckling at the thought that he'll keep disappointing him at this rate.

There's a glass of water sliding in front of him and he thanked the bartender.

Sicheng squinted at the plethora of light and colors that danced around his surroundings before someone said from next to him "If it isn't the one that got away."

He turned, eyes landing on the same Ten that stuck his tongue down his throat so many days before. The young man looked stunning even in the darkness, red button-down untucked and top buttons open to showcase the black choker around his neck and black pants tight enough that they didn't bunch at his calves where his combat boots reached. His hair was mussed and Sicheng raised a brow at him.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" he teased, feigning ignorance as he took a sip of his drink. There's a fire in Ten's eyes that he likes, something that he wants to know more about for a little while and he stood straighter in his seat. "I don't think I remember you."

It was a challenge, something that only made the glow in Ten's eyes grow and he's closer than he was, arm touching Sicheng's that he can feel the warmth through his coat. "Is that how kissing you ends? Forgetting everything?"

"I really shouldn't be doing this." Sicheng smirked wide enough to show his teeth, tongue poking at a canine in faux modesty that made Ten laugh.

The male slid closer, tilting his head because with Sicheng sitting  down, he was taller than him and he let a hand trail down his jaw in feather-light touches. "Isn't it fun the first time? Why not one more?"

There's something that bothered Sicheng and he looked around. "Where's your boyfriend? Does he know you're propositioning strangers on your own?"

"You're not exactly a stranger now, are you?"

Sounds like trouble, Sicheng thought to himself when he stared behind Ten where he caught sight of the tall male that approached him the first time. He's looking at the floor, hands in his pockets and his posture is stiff as if he's holding something back. There's a crease between his eyebrows that made Sicheng purse his lips and return his gaze to Ten who hasn't looked away from him.

"Too bad, you'll just need to keep up." Sicheng murmured as the volume of the club grew louder, voice drowned in the noise that Ten had to lean down to hear him. But Sicheng didn't repeat, he backed away into the crowd much to the other's surprise and even when Sicheng was already out the door, he scanned the inside for the tall male to find him grabbing Ten's arm as he said something.

He forgot what he was here for and turned around. It was only when he was a block away that there's pain in his knees that made him buckle on his feet, holding to the pole near him to keep upright. Sicheng ran his fingers to the joints in question, pressing hard enough that there's a burn that makes him wince and huffing at the loss of feeling around them. He doesn't know how these bleeding episodes work, even when he's got them since he was young and the prophylaxis he was regularly getting wasn't enough.

Wait-Sicheng furrowed his brows as he tried to recall the last time he went to the hospital for prophylaxis and groaned as he realized that he might have skipped some days. He can't even blame it to forgetfulness with how he ignored the texts from Kun that he should continue doing so. He didn't feel like talking to the current doctor with their fussy attitude and perhaps he should have just went to a nurse.

It's not comfortable to walk when his legs felt like jelly despite the obvious pain that kept throbbing in his knees. It would have been better if he suddenly bled inside his elbows because it would have been less hassle.

"Is this another ritual?" a hushed voice said from behind him, familiar and teasing as Sicheng jolted in surprise. He let go of the pole with a yelp that made him buckle on weight he can't support and he would have fallen to his knees to cause more trouble if not for Taeyong rushing to wrap his arm around him and hauling him up, letting the younger lean on his body.

"That's the last time you suddenly appear out of nowhere." Sicheng grumbled, hissing when he accidentally bends his knees and there's a crushing pain that made him bury his head on Taeyong's shoulder.

The latter didn't seem to mind, worried as he adjusted Sicheng so he wouldn't hurt his neck bending down and asked "I don't do it on purpose. We just happen to be in the same place at the same time and I saw what I thought was a ghost but it's just you looking like you revived from the dead."

Sicheng would have said something back at him but his knees were at their limit and he gritted out a "This is going to sound ironic but take me to the hospital."

"Where's the irony in wanting to ask for medical attention?"

He wanted to laugh. "I would say fuck it but I need to burn every last one and I'm only half-way."

Taeyong doesn't pry more, just letting the arm around Sicheng's torso loosen enough that he wouldn't drop the boy before he held his back and placed his other arm under Sicheng's knees. He hummed when he felt Sicheng stiffen but then with a grunt, he lifted him to the air.

"What are you doing?" the younger hissed through gritted teeth at the pressure on his knees, still feeling like there's something slicing at his nerves but when Taeyong hitched him up higher to accommodate how much taller Sicheng was, his hands found their way to the other's shoulders. "Stop-"

"The sooner we get to the hospital, the less you whine so hush."

Sicheng wished he wasn't in too much pain to voice out his embarrassment.

 

"Don't you think you're helping a stranger too much?"

It's what Sicheng said to him after he was treated, pants rolled to his thighs to see the damage on his knees where they were bruising purple, swelling around the discoloration stark contrast to the pale skin where a collection of old bruises littered his legs. Taeyong winced when he saw them, eyes wide and mouth agape in fear from where they came from but the doctor, a new one again and much nicer it seemed who minded their business, shooed him away to get the needles to give Sicheng the factor transfusions. She helped him sit properly on the bed, scolding him a little as she finished the drip setup and let the factor IX drip into the vein at the back of Sicheng's hand. She said it was good that he had someone to help him otherwise his joints might have been damaged. She left the room, Taeyong entering afterwards and sitting next to him with a disturbed look.

"I'll have to make you answer one of my questions if you want me to answer that." he whispered, Sicheng confused at why he sounded shaken but shrugged in response.

"Are you being abused?"

Now, Sicheng laughed. He covered his mouth at first, giggles that were quiet because there was a stabbing pain in his head when he made a sound but the idea is so ridiculous that he succumbed to the laughter and Taeyong didn't seem amused at his reaction.

Sicheng used his free hand to gesture himself, subsiding laughter turned to hiccups and said "Would you hit me?"

"No!" Taeyong yelled, standing up and his eyes nothing but narrowed slits under furrowed brows that Sicheng wants to trace the crease between his eyebrows to see how much he would react. Anger was something he wasn't used to these days, everyone just disappointed and annoyed at him but there's an odd emotion swimming in the elder's eyes. 

Sicheng doesn't know what to do with this situation and shrugged again. "No one would dare to hit me if they didn't want to have any misconduct hanging over their heads."

"What does that mean? I asked you if you were abused. Did your parents break your legs? Did someone try to assault you? Why are you going to misconduct?"

His parents, neglectful as they are sometimes, wouldn't dirty their hands. He wasn't stupid enough to be assaulted by anyone, physical or sexual and he smiled to himself only to school a neutral expression when Taeyong glared harder. Should he tell this person? Kun was particular about him telling people about his sickness, scared he might be seen as easy target and only allowed it if they were from the hospital because his parents would protect him from anything inside the walls of the building. Taeyong is just an acquaintance, gave him ice cream out of the blue as they talked. What difference does it make, though, if he knew? It wouldn't matter.

Sicheng bunched up the sheets with his hands, pretending to contemplate it. "I'm sick."

"I know you are."

He glared at the elder but sighed when Taeyong's jaw tensed. "You really think I would get these bruises from a beating?" he paused to see the elder raise a brow "They aren't like those bruises."

Sicheng raised his sleeves, elbows that had darkened patches on them from the times he bled there internally and ran a finger through his pale lips to which Taeyong's eyes followed. "People usually mistake it as anemia. But then I get dark circles under my eyes and I'm not allowed anything that is considered dangerous. I bleed for no reason, my muscles and joints just go and rupture that they cause these bruises. If you cut on my skin, it won't clot. I'll just bleed and bleed and bleed." he dragged the words through his tongue, closing his eyes when the fatigue of the day finally crept up him.

"Sicheng?"

"I'm hemophiliac. And really, I want to finish burning those letters. That's the only reason I agree to these treatments. When I'm done, I'll finally let go."

Taeyong turned silent, staring at him lost in his thoughts at what Sicheng just said. It made the latter chuckle, eyes drooping at the sleepiness coming over him.

"That's why you shouldn't expect much from me. You won't see me for long. Dying is easier but I want to live the last moments doing what I want."

He closed his eyes, the light from above now too bright and fell on the pillows with a serene expression. He was at the last threads of consciousness when there's a hand on his cheek and Taeyong's voice as the words he said slipped past Sicheng's head when he fell asleep.

"Then I'll help you."


End file.
